


Free Fallin'

by JinxyTwinxyDoo



Series: Whumptober 2020 [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Blood, Character Death, Graphic Description, Impaled, Injury, Minor Character Death, Other, Panic, Punctured, Vomiting, falling, no.1 - Freeform, no.2, whumptober2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26782804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinxyTwinxyDoo/pseuds/JinxyTwinxyDoo
Summary: Peter remembered watching a show his aunt had been watching one time as a young kid. The certain episode had shown a kid working a fork lift that had tipped over and been impaled. He remembered it so clearly. Remembered the panic the character had been in. He never thought he'd find himself in a situation like that. But when he opens his eyes, all he can do is panic.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Sam Wilson, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Whumptober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952896
Comments: 1
Kudos: 100
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Free Fallin'

Waking up was painful.

All he felt was pain. It hurt to smell, hear, and see. His eyes burned every time he peeled them open just a little bit and his ears were ringing. His nose stung sharply every time he inhaled, which forced him to open his mouth a breath through that. Dust rushed into it as soon as he opened his jaw, and found himself coughing. Agonizing sparks of pain blossomed in his chest, forcing a groan out of his throat. He flopped his head back, gasping as he worked on opening up his eyes. His chest hurt… god it hurt so much. It hurt to breathe and move and just do anything. 

“...-er-Man? I repeat! Spider-Man! Do you copy?”

Through his ringing ears, he made out a voice speaking to him… which was strange. It was mostly dark from what he could tell. He… Spider-Man - Peter - groaned, clenching his jaw and responding absent-mindedly. “I copy… Where am I? What’s going on?’ He blinked a few times, as if that would help him focus more. As the fuzziness in his head began to recede, his thoughts began to come swimming back to him. He couldn’t see and he was in pain. He had to figure out what was wrong.

“Karen? Night- night vision?” He croaked out softly, grimacing and squinting his eyes. There was a little hum and the sound of camera lenses before everything was suddenly snapped into view… and god did it terrify him. A terrified shriek ripped itself out of his chest as he looked up. He was under rubble. He knew that. But above him was a body.

A body with a metal pipe sticking out of its chest. He wouldn’t have minded it as much if it weren’t facing towards him with lifeless eyes resting directly on him. It was the body of a man. A pale man with short, black hair. His forehead had a deep gash spreading across it with blood dripping down from it. His arms and legs dangled down lifelessly, fingers partially curled. One of his legs was bent at a disgusting angle that made Peter cringe. The pipe itself was covered in blood. Blood that he could see blood dripping down from the pipe and followed where it led… only to stop.

The pipe went through his stomach.

Panic and shock swamped him immediately and his breathing quickened. He was stuck under rubble impaled with a body a few feet above him. He gagged, hands flying towards his mask to pull it up as a wave of nausea washed over him. And suddenly, he was vomiting. He gagged, choking and gasping and writhing as the liquid went all over the ground. He turned away in hopes of not getting any on him, but he knew he wasn’t entirely safe. Panicked, erratic breathing took over and he tugged his mask down a little more again.

“Guys? Guys I need help! I’m stuck a-and I can’t-” he broke off as a stinging liquid rose in the back of his throat. He turned his head to the side, trying to make his body follow to only wince in pain. A cry rose in his throat that was quickly cut off by nothing but bile spilling out of his mouth. His gasped for air, spitting and letting his head flop back lifelessly once again. No one was responding. He was stuck down here with a pipe through his stomach. He was bleeding. He was going to run out of air.

He was going to die.

“Hnnng… no, no, no… I don’t- someone help me- please!” He scrabbled desperately at anything, churning his legs and scratching feebly at anything he could get a hold of. Above him, the rubble that the pipe was sticking out of shifted… and so did the body. Peter froze, staring up at the corpse as it jerked and slid down just a little. For a moment, everything stilled again… and then the body slid down the pole straight onto him.

He froze.

Then the panic set it. He gagged again, a sickly feeling washing over him as he scrabbled desperately at the body. “Get off get off get off get off!” He practically shrieked as if he expected the body to wake up, apologize, move off of him, and go back to being dead. But no matter how much he pleaded and begged and pushed, the body didn’t move an inch. He trembled violently, his vision swimming as the nauseating odor of rotten flesh swamped his senses. He had to get out of here. He couldn’t do this.

“Karen I need h-help!” 

“Contacting the others for-”

“No now!” 

There was a moment of silence before his vision lit up with a diagram. A diagram of the rubble and how it was positioned around him. He was laying on a slab settled on the ground. The piece above him was settled on top of said piece, the pole and a few other spare pieces of cement boulders propping it up. If he could tug one out of place, this boulder would lose balance and he’d be able to get himself out of this mess.

Gasping for air, he tugged his hand out from under the body. “Night vision and hurry.” He strained to keep his voice steady, tugging his chin upwards to try and avoid the smell of the body and blood. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t manage to evade it. He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to clear his vision as he cleared his throat. “Do-do we have any webs that could knock those boulders out of place?” 

“Web combination number-”

“Equip it.” He rasped, letting his head slide a little as his eyes began to roll. Shock and blood loss was already wreaking havoc on his system. He had to move quickly or he might not get out of this. Clenching his jaw. He brought his hand back over to pressed one finger against the pole, hovering his arm above the body. He closed his eyes, his breathing stuttering as he slowly began to apply pressure. He had to stay awake. He had to-

snap.

A scream tore itself from his throat as he pulled his hand back to himself, gasping and squeezing his pointer finger gently. Pain brought him back to reality, but for how long? Huffing and dry heaving, he slowly repositioned his hand to that it was aimed towards the boulder he had to hit. It was a few meters away, but he hoped that this web combination would be able to do something. Or whatever this equipment was, anyways. Groaning, he curled his fingers and grimaced as his arm jolted with backlash. There was a little thud followed by some beeping… and that’s when it hit him. This web had to be some sort of bomb. Or something with enough force to knock something heavy off. “Wait-”

And suddenly, his world was nothing but pain and white. There was a deafening bang that tore through the air, echoing and bouncing off of everything it could. The right side of his body was swamped with heat and pain, and he was suddenly aware of the mistake he had made in not listening to whatever Karen was going to say about the combination. But one thing was for sure- he must’ve gotten out of there. Why?

Because he was falling. Vaguely, he was aware of his senses slowly rising to scream at him. He knew he must’ve been in some sort of danger, but he was too tired and overwhelmed to care. He let himself fall, grimacing as the wind whistled in his ears. The world became muffled and slow. He was swimming in a moment of brief relief, his body pins and needles. 

Then there was pain everywhere.

He hit something and he hit it hard. His body jerked as he made contact, and his back arched as a pained shriek pierced through the air. Then, he flopped lifelessly back onto the cement. His ears were ringing and he was suddenly aware of so many voices screaming in his ears. Why were they yelling? What was going on? Had he done something wrong? He squinted his eyes, harshly breathing as his mouth dangled open tiredly. He let words form on his tongue, but they couldn’t rise out of his throat. Instead, all that came up was a bitter, tangy liquid. He sputtered, choking and gasping as his lungs burned.

Blood. Blood was coming out of his mouth. Blood was coming up his throat.

He twisted, rolling onto his right side before he registered that his right side had been in so much agony moments before. The moment he rolled over, another cry rose in his throat and he threw his head back. He heard a splatter and curled in on himself, grimacing and squeezing his eyes shut. He was in so much pain. So much terrible pain. He willed his mind to give into unconsciousness, but his brain cruelly refused. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t focus. 

He was going to die…

“I found him!” The voice startled him out of his descending thoughts and he opened his eyes blearily as air rushed to hit his face. Someone took his mask off. His face. No no no no no. He opened his eyes blearily, jaw opening and closing desperately as he tried to form some words. But all that came out were terrible gurgling sounds followed by wet heaving.

“It’s not good. He needs medical attention right away.”

Sam. That was Sam. He knew that was Sam… what was he doing here? His eyes began to roll upwards again and he found himself lifting his head and letting it drop harshly back down onto the cement, hissing at the pain. “Hey hey hey! What’re you doing spidey?” There were hands grabbing onto his shoulder and arm holding him firmly in place. Peter groaned, his head swinging backwards as he tried desperately to talk. But nothing happened. His mouth felt heavy. His jaw was going slack. His eye-lids began to flutter, sliding closer to being shut each time.

“Nuh-uh webhead. Keep those eyes open for me.”

Why was Sam snapping his fingers? He weakly hummed in response, but nothing made sense anymore. His mind was foggy and hazy. A deep urge to sleep swamped over his senses, dragging his body down into a relaxed and limp state. His eye-lids began to flutter and he felt his eyes starting to roll upwards again; and this time? He didn’t fight it. As a wave of darkness began to rise from the back of his vision, he could just barely make out the sound of Sam yelling at him and another terrified voice screaming his name.

“Peter!”


End file.
